Terra Firma
by zipscool
Summary: Kuroda Makoto is a Geo-kinetic; a Level 4 problem child who can bend the very earth beneath him to his will! He soon comes under the scrutiny of one Grey Hound of the elusive Board of Directors and is forced against his will to delve deep into the dark side of both his home and that of other nations in order to keep his city and those he cares about
1. A Certain Geo-kinetic ESPer

**This will be my first submission for this particular fandom. I really should be finishing updates to stuff I've already put up here but this just would not leave my head, especially with all the recent announcements made for the **_**To Aru **_**series. Interesting stuff.**

**You'll notice that I refrain from using Japanese syntax and suffixes. No offense to the Japanese, but I think they're a mite silly and can make some conversations rather trying to read/listen to. Another thing you'll also probably notice is that I've taken a few creative liberties, and the chances are that similar liberties are going to crop up as the story moves on. If that isn't your kind of thing and you like your fan-fiction to be as close to the source material as possible, well I can promise you that I'll try my damndest, but not much more than that I'm afraid.**

**And another thing: in case the summary wasn't clear enough, this will be OC-centric. Some of the canon cast may appear now and then but I'm not making any promises because I just don't think I could pull them off as they're portrayed in the series proper. So if stories about OCs turn you off, then you might want to look elsewhere. Otherwise, read on and I do hope you enjoy it.**

**Terra Firma**

**Chapter One: A Certain Geo-kinetic ESPer**

The teenager sat in the centre of a decrepit, empty room that had been gathering dust far too long. From a casual glance he would almost appear to be dead. His dark black school blazer was ruffled and caked in grime and specks of blood, his navy blue trousers were torn and similarly muddied. His shaggy raven hair was mussed up and tinted grey with dust. A large bruise was forming on his left cheek and a trickle of blood travelled down his forehead like a crimson line. He was unnaturally silent and unmoving, wrapped up in chains like a feudal prisoner.

The building that housed him was constructed originally to house prestigious families, but work was abandoned when the construction company declared bankruptcy as a result of a nationwide scandal. It was an ugly blemish on an otherwise picturesque vista; dull, jagged and unattractive compared to the magnificent, smooth and pristine skyscrapers that could be seen almost anywhere one cared to turn in the gargantuan city which was almost a nation unto itself.

Multiple footsteps reverberated through an outside corridor, closing in on the room where the beaten boy sat.

_One, two, three…_

The door to the room, as old as the foundations of the building and even more worse for wear was suddenly and viciously kicked open. Its rusting hinges screamed in protest before giving way to the force applied, snapping. The door fell to the floor, several voices made startled exclamations.

_Eight, nine… ten?_

A figure, tall and lean, strode over the fallen door. His hair was dyed blonde; his messy fringe covering his forehead which had also been dyed a shade of yellow when the thug had failed to apply it adequately. The taunts he had since received for it twisted his blocky features into an ugly scowl. He eyed the beaten teen sat at the centre of the room and his hooded eyes darkened and his frown deepened. He strode towards the figure confidently as his gang followed him cautiously.

_No, twelve. Got to be twelve._

'This the punk Sousuke?' the blonde thug asked. His voice was like granite.

_Or is it eleven?_

'That's him Gou,' a nasally voice confirmed.

_Idiot, it's twelve. That moron must have hit you harder than you thought._

Gou inclined his head as if considering something, before violently lashing out with a heel, catching the scraggy boy in the stomach. The boy made a noise halfway between a grunt and a cough as he was violently 'awakened'.

'Wake up you piece of shit,' Gou snarled, reaching a hand out and taking a firm clasp of the teen's raven hair before lowering himself into a squatting position, his flat, ugly face scant inches from the boy's own. The boy wrinkled his nose in disgust, which only served to enrage Gou further.

'Think my breath stinks huh?' he asked, almost calmly. He suddenly threw the boy's head towards the ground. A great, fleshy smack resounded through the empty, grey room.

'That better?' he cooed; his voice mocking and filled with the promise of great pain. 'That more to your liking? Better on your nostrils?'

He roughly hauled the boy up by his hair so that he was level with Gou's face again.

'Now…' he said, feigning calm, 'My boy Sousuke here…' he inclined his head towards a lanky, pale thug with a crooked nose that had clearly been broken too many times to ever sit naturally on his face again.

'My boy Sousuke here says that you've been messing with him and his friends. That you've been attacking them – quite unprovoked – in back alleys and even…' he held up a hand to his mouth and gave a mocking gasp, 'Even in the middle of the street in broad daylight.'

The boy didn't say anything in reply. Gou took that to mean he was too dazed to say anything, so he continued.

'Now my boys… well they're not in the best fiscal situation right? So then it's only natural that they need to find ways to make a few bucks on the side right? You know? To make ends meet and all?'

Still the boy didn't say anything.

'To be honest with you, the first time he came to me, telling me about you I just ignored him. I mean look at him: he's a pathetic little shit; thought some combat experience would put some steel in him, so to speak.' Sousuke bristled at the insult, but knew better than to run his mouth, especially when Gou was in the middle of an 'interrogation'.

'Now we get to the real issue: like all respectable businessmen, a small sum of whatever my boys make goes to me. In turn, this allows me to get hold of more of my product, which I give to the guys here so they can sell it. The customer gets what they want and my boys and I get a generous sum to help keep them afloat. The system works: everybody wins.'

Gou paused for a moment, he kept clenching and unclenching the fist entangled in his captive's hair, trying not to let his fury get the better of him.

'This system does _not _work; however, if some jumped up vigilante scumbag decides not only to fuck with my boys on a regular basis, but also to _steal and hide my goddamn product!_' He screamed in his face. Spittle flecked the captive's dirty, blooded face.

Gou took several deep breaths and shut his eyes, waiting until he calmed himself down, at which point he reopened his eyes and fixed the boy with the same look a man might give a cockroach.

'Now, I'm only going to ask you once, and if I don't get the answer I like then we've got a problem. And when we've got a problem; _you've_ got a problem; and to work out that problem I do whatever I feel like doing to you until I get tired, and then my boys have a go. It's really in your best interests to 'fess up where you hid my stash. That is if you don't feel like dying today.'

He held the captive for a few moments longer but he didn't reply. Gou wondered if he'd perhaps been too rough with the little punk and given him a concussion, and he was going to look like an idiot interrogating someone who was physically incapable of speaking. He was considering what exactly he was to do when the boy suddenly gave a pained cough. His eyebrow quirked and the corner of his lips tugged into a marginally satisfied smile.

'So… fancy telling us where–' he stopped, narrowing his eyes suspiciously at the captive. 'What's so damned funny?'

The boy didn't reply; he just kept that shit eating grin plastered to his face. His eyes – emerald green, a rarity in Japan, one of his parents was probably a foreigner – were open and staring with a confident measure of certainty that made Gou wary. Unfortunately Gou had a simple mindset; if he found something he was unsure of, he didn't tend to think.

Instead he got angry.

He was about to form a snarling speech full of threats that would have made even trained soldiers used to the horrors of warfare pale in response.

He never got to start.

What happened instead was that Gou shrieked in pain as white hot agony exploded in his crotch. He dropped, clutching his battered genitals and rolled side to side, groaning in pain. As he rolled over, he saw that there was a small pillar of building material that had somehow formed in between his legs and risen with enough force to almost crush his dangly parts.

The captive looked at the downed thug, a satisfied smirk on his torn lip.

'What the hell…' one of the young thugs in Gou's gang wondered aloud as he took in the scene before him.

Another thug with dyed red hair and several nose piercings recovered the fastest and ran to the aid of his boss. He suddenly found himself flat on his back, dazed and a stinging pounding sensation in his head like someone was playing a game of pinball inside his skull.

The pillar that had dealt a vicious, underhanded blow had extended and inclined in scant moments, impacting against the thug's head like a hammer.

'Is he–?' one of the gangsters wondered aloud.

'Don't be stupid!' Sousuke screamed at him. 'He never used any kind of ability when he attacked us! Spread out and find the fucker who's screwing with us!' He wheeled on the captive, his teeth bared in an aggressive snarl.

'As for you, you little bastard. You're going to tell your friend to stop fucking with us or you're going to…' he trailed off.

The captive was standing in the centre of the room. Unchained.

'Wh–' was all Sousuke had time to say before the captive raised a leg and brought it sharply down on the ground. The building shook and the floor underneath them parted, forming a great fissure that split the room in half. One of the gangers almost fell through but a more quick-thinking friend managed to pull him back just in time.

'You think that was bad?' the captive said, the smirk never leaving his face. 'Wait 'til you see this little number!'

With that, he slammed his palms together before bringing them sharply down onto the floor. A forest of pillars erupted inside the room, jostling and scatter the gangsters. All found themselves pinned, unable to move, trapped in the cramped space. One thug began screaming that he was claustrophobic, drawing a sadistic cackle from the former prisoner.

'I'd have liked to tango with you guys in a more… direct manner,' the captive said, stretching his neck out and rotating his shoulders. 'But you really did a number on me. Still, thanks loads for bringing me back here. It would have been a royal pain trying to find this place and Mr Gou on my own.'

He turned sharply on his heel and took hold of the back of Gou's collar, who tried to claw at the captive weakly. The boy glanced disinterestedly at the still struggling gangster and gave a nod of approval before chopping him viciously in the side of the neck. Gou went slack and the boy resumed dragging him towards the open window.

The boy took in the vista that stretched out before him. Glorious, smooth, modern buildings greeted him. Some stretching dizzyingly tall and others sat more squat in nature. It was very much an urban jungle and it was his home. He smiled, ignoring the stabbing pain in his split lip and from the bruise on his face.

'God I love this place.'

The boy stared at the windowsill and, surely enough, it began to run like liquid and mould itself into a new form.

_Whatever I desire_…

'H-hey!' one of the thugs called out, breaking his concentration. Some of the moulding earth solidified, some of it disintegrated and fell to the ground two stories below. The boy sighed and craned his head back towards the trapped gangsters.

'What?' he asked, as if talking to a petulant child.

'You're not just going to leave us here are you?' the mousey thug sounded so panicked it was almost funny. The boy decided he wanted to have a little more fun.

'Well, why not?' he asked, as if it were the simplest thing in the world (and it really was). 'I mean, it's not like you guys would really change and I hear prison is an awfully bad place so, you know, I thought maybe it'd be a kindness if I–'

'What?! You can't be serious! We'll _die–_'

'And that's really not my problem.' He was tempted to leave it at that, but soon a very delicious idea crept into his head. 'Unless we can work something out…'

'Like…?' the thug asked in a strained voice, clearly eager to be out of his earthly cage, but also wary of what the devious ESPer might want.

'Surely you guys have gotten some sort of cash from the bad dudes you've been dealing with. I want it. All of it. Then I let you guys out.'

'What?!' the thug squeaked. 'But if they find out they'll–'

'Or, you know, I could just keep walking. As I said; no skin off my back if I just leave you there to rot.'

The mousey thug seemed to weigh the options in his head; finally he scrunched his face up before nodding stiffly and slightly as if he'd just agreed to make a deal with the devil himself.

'Okay… okay… there's two suitcases two floors up. I don't know where exactly for sure but I'm pretty certain it's up there.'

_Ka-ching._

'Thanks a lot. Ta-ta!' The boy turned back and a pillar formed beneath his and Gou's feet that shot them both through the ceiling.

The thug stared blankly at the space the boy had occupied before screaming bloody murder.

The boy heard none of this. In moments he was up two floors, Gou's writhing form next to him.

'Stay there,' the boy said as he strode ahead through the unfinished corridors and rooms, searching for the two cases. Once he found them he'd hop off with Gou and give Judgement a buzz. Then he'd set off to finish his task.

_All in all, a good day's work. _His ribs throbbed in protest and the boy rubbed them with a grimace.

_Wouldn't have minded if they'd gone a little easier on me though._

Sure enough, as the pitiful thug had said, he found two cases; both bog standard grey with black handles.

_Entirely nondescript. Fantastic.  
_

The boy set them both down and opened them up. He would later chastise himself for not checking for any security measures first, but as it was, neither exploded in his face or called in a strike team so he reasoned it was all good.

And the _money._

The boy could quite easily say he had never seen so many bills in all his lifespan. A slow smile began to creep across his face as he shut the cases and picked them up in both hands before strolling back towards wherever he'd left Gou.

Admirably enough, Gou was on his feet by the time he returned. He was panting, pain had exhausted him but he fixed the boy with a glare that could pierce steel.

'Word of advice,' the boy said as he strode towards Gou, who staggered back from the approaching figure. When he was within striking distance Gou bellowed an inarticulate war cry and pounced. The boy swayed to the side, avoiding the clumsy strike, and hammered his fist three times into Gou's solar plexus in quick succession.

Gou crumpled.

'Just stay down.' The boy said, utterly void of any kind of pity. 'Make it a lot easier for the both of us,' he muttered to himself.

'Okay then…' he said, clutching both cases in one hand and taking hold of Gou with the other. The boy took a deep breath before steadying himself for what he was about to do. He was good, but not all-powerful. One slip would send both of them tumbling to the ground, and he really didn't want to have to explain what he was doing with two cases full of cash to Judgement while he was in hospital.

_Oh, that reminds me._

The boy flipped out his phone and quickly punched in the number for Judgement. He was one digit away when he heard sirens.

_Huh… well maybe they'll pass by. _Someone_ had to have overheard the racket I made down below._

With that, he took hold of Gou once more and began to concentrate.

'Going down,' he murmured.

And then they were falling.

Kuroda Makoto grinned as he descended, clutching both his prizes tightly in his hands.

**-X-**

The two figures on the roof of the nearby building dressed in coats watched impassively as the Level 4 Geo-kinetic power user fell to the ground at an almost alarming rate, borne on a worryingly thin platform the Second Year student had fabricated with his gift. The younger of the two, a girl roughly the same age as the target in a midnight black winter coat with a furred hood, almost intervened, but the older one, dressed in a smart, double-breasted brown coat, held her back as he stowed away his phone. He had just made the call to Judgement that a gang of ESPers was causing a ruckus at an old, abandoned building site.

'He'll be fine.' The nineteen year old male murmured softly. Sure enough, Makoto slowed and hopped off the platform lightly, still dragging the gang boss by the back of his collar.

'You see?' the older teen, known only as Hayama, said with a soft smile that was clearly meant to be comforting.

The seventeen year old girl grunted in a manner very unbecoming of a creature such as herself. A Cryo-kinetic, the awakening of her considerable powers had drained her hair of all colour and – chillingly enough – seemed to have done the same to her eyes. Blank, white orbs stared back at Hayama, and it was only if one looked close enough that they could see the outline of her pupils. At any other distance, it almost seemed as if the young girl should be blind. Yet several months of working with her told Hayama that she could see just as well as any other girl her age. Her finely sculpted features had settled into a dissatisfied frown, and Hayama took a moment to marvel at how her powers and her personality were near polar opposites of the other.

'I only wanted to make sure he's alive for this little scheme Grey Hound has cooked up. Be a damn shame to tail him for more than a month just to have him crap out on us now.'

'Hm, yes, indeed,' Hayama murmured disinterestedly. Hayama was a bespectacled fellow with fair, wavy brown hair and was almost six and a half feet of wiry muscle. He had been one of the earliest candidates tested for AIM emission, and it turned out he did emit AIM particles as it happened, but he'd thought the process was too much of a hassle and had dropped out of the program.

Not that he needed any power, for his prowess at thievery and sneaking was near legendary, or as legendary as such attributes were ever likely to get. It had, however, put him firmly on the map of one Grey Hound, a member of Academy City's elusive Board of Directors. Hayama didn't know Grey Hound's name. As far as he knew, no one did. Regardless, Grey Hound owned both him and young Yukino to his left. Eventually he would own Kuroda Makoto as well.

Hayama didn't know what Grey Hound wanted with the Level 4; or any of them if he was being perfectly honest. Recently though his messages from the shady individual had become almost urgent in tone… as if he was afraid of or expecting something big. Whatever it was, he wanted a team put together to do something about it, and Kuroda Makoto was on the list.

_As am I and our little Miss Snow White here. _Hayama thought wryly.

'He's almost out of sight. We should move on and see where he goes next,' Hayama said, hands in his light brown coat pockets.

'I don't know about you but I'll be damn glad when all this sneaking around crap is done with,' Yukino mumbled. 'All right, stand back,' she said before reaching into her thick winter coat pocket and drawing out a bottle of water. Unscrewing the cap, she scattered the water into the air before freezing it, moulding it until it formed a perfect bridge to the building with the next best view of their target.

'Very nice,' Hayama said. Yukino shot him a dirty look. The big man had said that every time she'd performed her little magic trick and she wasn't sure if he was making fun of her or not.

'Yeah, yeah,' she said in reply. 'Hurry up; this thing won't be here all day.'

Hayama didn't reply, stepping onto the frosty bridge and making his way across as quickly as he could. As he travelled he wondered what someone down below might think if they looked up and saw the ice bridge. He decided that it didn't matter really, though the mental image he conceived of a small child pointing upwards as his mother dragged him along almost made him titter.

Several hundred feet below on the ground, a certain nun in a white habit, travelling next to a certain misfortunate high school boy, pointed up towards the bridge and made a considerable fuss over its existence, which the certain high school boy was not having.

'For the last time Index,' the boy said exasperatedly, 'it's probably just a trick of the light; it happens all the time here. Now do you want to go to this food court or not?'

And just like that, the bridge in the sky was forgotten.

**-X-**

**And so we are introduced to our 'hero', his power, and two people stalking him. Fun.**

**Read and review is appreciated. Constructive criticism is also appreciated and encouraged. If you think I mucked up where sentence structure is concerned, don't be afraid to drop me a line – I don't bite. Not when I'm sober anyway… or even when I'm drunk for that matter.**

**Cheers,**

**zips**


	2. A Surprise Meeting

**Terra Firma**

**Chapter Two: A Surprise Meeting**

The blow knocked him back against the wall, and probably loosened a few teeth.

Surprise was total. Kuroda didn't have time to brace, nor roll with the punch to lessen the impact. So against the wall he went.

Not that it slowed him down in the slightest.

Teeth bared in a feral snarl, he recovered and was on his feet in a snap, ready to launch a savage reprisal in the form of a punch of his own or a barrage of terra-kinesis.

He stopped when he realised he was staring up at a familiar face.

Tetsuo Morioka stood in the doorway looking like he hadn't slept a wink in months, which was actually pretty standard for him. The older male's mud brown hair was mussed and he was sloppily dressed in a plain white undershirt and jeans which he hadn't buckled up. Kuroda noticed that there were marks on his neck and instantly understood the situation.

Tetsuo blinked, surprised, and then offered a hand to Kuroda.

'Sorry man,' he mumbled; his voice croaky. Kuroda could smell the alcohol on his breath. 'Thought you'd be someone else… you look like shit by the way.'

'Yeah, clearly, and thanks,' Kuroda said as he clasped the hand offered and let Tetsuo help him to his feet. 'So whose girlfriend was it this time?'

'Same as it always is,' Tetsuo answered sleepily, turning to enter the apartment. 'So, yeah, sorry man but I'm going to–'

'Yeah, yeah, I know. Don't worry I'll take care of it.' Kuroda answered, stepping inside with Tetsuo. He paused at the entrance to his friend's apartment. The smell of alcohol, tobacco, and more carnal vices hit him almost like a wave. If he wasn't so used to it by now he'd have gagged. Tetsuo clearly mistook the look on Kuroda's face for disgust.

'What? The smell?' the older student asked.

'Nah, I just remembered something and you're going to love it.'

'Oh?' Tetsuo raised an eyebrow.

'Yeah, just hold on here a few I need to make a quick trip.' With that said, he left.

The trip took roughly five minutes and when Kuroda returned he held two indistinct grey briefcases. Tetsuo eyed them warily.

'Am I going to like what's in those?' he asked. 'And where did you get them anyway?'

'Shut up…' Kuroda replied, setting both cases down before releasing the catches and opening them. 'And feast your eyes.'

Tetsuo seemed to shut down for a moment. Then his tired eyes widened until Kuroda thought they were going to pop out of their sockets.

'How…' he began.

'Little present from a friend of mine named Gou,' Kuroda said with a smirk.

'Gou… hold up, you don't mean _that _Gou, do you?'

Kuroda gave him a pointed look.

'Right, of course it was. So who asked you to bring him in?'

'I dunno,' Kuroda shrugged. 'Some first year kid at my school. Gou and his cronies probably shook him down for cash or something a few too many times, I didn't bother asking.'

'Uh huh,' Tetsuo nodded. 'So how much did he give you for that little odd-job then?'

'About ¥20,000.'

Tetsuo raised a brow at his younger friend. 'That's cheap. For you I mean.'

'Times are tough, I know that. People got to keep afloat somehow and if I charge too much for my little services word'll probably get around.'

Tetsuo stared at the notes in the cases.

'Doesn't look like you're going to have much of an issue keeping yourself afloat for a while.'

'One's for you.'

Tetsuo swerved around so fast Kuroda thought his head might snap off.

'No shit?' He said, gawping in astonishment.

'Well yeah, I mean I still owe you the rent from the last three months that you covered for me.'

A grin spread across Tetsuo's tired features and he pulled Kuroda close in a sloppy one-handed hug.

'You're a real pal little dude. Don't know where I'd be without you.'

'Probably buried in a gutter somewhere.'

'Probably, yeah,' Tetsuo agreed.

Kuroda took hold of one case and strode into his room as Tetsuo continued to marvel at his gift. Unlike the rest of the apartment it was clean, or clean as according to Kuroda Makoto. Worn, dirty clothes were heaped in one corner of the room next to a closet and his plain tan duvet cover was crinkled and marked with various stains.

He set the briefcase full of notes down beside his bed and undressed, wincing as he flexed his beaten limbs. Kuroda stepped into the en suite and took in his appearance in the mirror above the sink. One cheek was swelling and he sported a black eye, which was bloodshot. His lip was torn at the corner and dried blood marked a trail from his nose and stained his upper lip.

'Yeesh,' Kuroda murmured to himself with a grimace. 'I _do _look like shit.'

He took into account the various other bruises that marked his adolescent body, and finally seemed to realise that they hurt. Badly. He also felt exhausted and groaned wearily. The adrenaline rush had finally worn off and now he was entering the crash. He needed some sleep.

On a normal day he'd have run himself a bath and just let himself soak in it, revelling in the warmth that enveloped him like a blanket. Today he was just too tired and it was too much of a hassle, so he ran the shower and began the process of washing the grime and blood from today's adventure off his aching body before towelling off, throwing a simple plain white T-shirt and some boxer shorts on and crashing into bed.

**-X-**

Roughly two hours after Kuroda had dropped off his two pursuers dropped onto the balcony of his and Tetsuo's apartment. Yukino had complained that their pursuit had used up most of the water she carried with her almost time. Hayama retrieved a lockpick from his coat and began to work the mechanism that opened the French window.

'You're a Level Four Cryo-kinetic; can't you just use the moisture in the air?' he asked, his voice hushed.

'Well yeah, of course I could. I'm not like those wussy Level Threes, or the pathetic Level Twos,' Yukino answered back irritably.

'Then what are you complaining about?'

'It's just… it's just harder to do that's all. I mean what if we need to freeze this guy in one place? I don't think he's just going to stand still and wait for me to get my gig on.'

'That implies he'll fight us.'

'We're breaking into his apartment, I don't think that strikes most people as a very friendly gesture in the first place,' Yukino remarked snidely.

Hayama paused a moment.

'All right, point made. But if it all goes as Mr Grey Hound suggested–'

'Come on, you should know by now that these plans fall apart as soon as things get even a little bit hairy. You mark my words; the moment we wake this guy up, he'll attack… and why is it that _I'm _telling _you _this? You're always the one–'

She was cut off when Hayama held a finger to her lips and, once Yukino had calmed down, removed it and signalled that he was finished. He slid the door open and took several cautious steps inside, motioning for Yukino to follow.

Yukino watched Hayama move in the dark. She didn't know quite how to describe his movements. They were slow, measured, but sure at the same time, like he'd done this a thousand times before. She had a strange thought that this was what it was like watching an artisan work his craft.

Unfortunately, even artisans are prone to quirks of misfortune.

A loud flush reverberated through the apartment and a door suddenly flung open, bathing the sitting room in orange light. A young man slightly older than Hayama stepped out of the restroom, clothed in an undershirt and very creased jeans. He yawned loudly and stopped when he finished and found himself looking upon the two intruders.

The older man's expression went from confusion to realisation to horror in the span of a heartbeat and he opened his mouth to shout–

–Hayama pounced.

But he was an instant too late. A strangulated cry escaped Tetsuo's lips before Hayama collided with him, knocking them both to the floor. Hayama clamped a hand around Tetsuo's mouth, in the same moment pushing his other arm against Tetsuo's throat, cutting off his windpipe and strangling the older male.

'Yukino!' Hayama hissed.

Yukino nodded, even though Hayama wouldn't see it in the dark and with his attention fixed on Tetsuo. She retrieved a bottle of water and froze the liquid inside before moving it and moulding it to restrain Tetsuo's limbs. With that settled Hayama put more pressure on the weakening Tetsuo's throat.

'Hush,' he whispered. 'It's nothing personal. Just relax and you'll be fine.'

'Says the guy strangling him,' Yukino muttered darkly. Finally Tetsuo went limp and Hayama removed his hand before Tetsuo suffered damage from being deprived of oxygen for too long. He spent a moment making sure his victim was still breathing when a sudden slam reached his ears.

He looked up to see a vicious kick aimed squarely at his face.

Kuroda kicked Hayama like he was punting a soccer ball. The force behind the kick knocked the older boy off his feet and saw him lying on his back. Yukino cried out in surprise and moulded what little water she possessed to try and restrain the boy. Kuroda stepped in close to her and hammered a fist into her gut. Yukino doubled over and knew little more and Kuroda slammed his elbow onto the back of her skull, knocking her out.

He whirled around in moments to deal with Hayama–

– but Hayama was already up.

Kuroda threw a hasty right hook that was vicious, but ill-planned and Hayama slithered right around it, stepping inside Kuroda's reach. The older boy moved like a whip, pressing his fingers into various points on Kuroda's body in a snap. He stepped back. The entire process had taken little more than a second and Kuroda had been entirely caught off-guard by his speed.

He was even more surprised though, to find that his body would not respond to his commands. He tried to take a step forward but instead collapsed face first on the smooth, pale carpet of the apartment.

'What did you–' he asked, stunned, but in no pain whatsoever.

'Pressure points,' Hayama replied as if it explained everything. 'It was pretty hard to learn, and even harder to get right, but I had a very good teacher.'

Hayama stooped low next to the prone Kuroda, examining him behind his spectacles, which he had somehow kept attached to his face when Kuroda had floored him.

'You're pretty good you know. No technique, but suffice to say I'm impressed, even managed to take down our own Ice Princess – without your powers no less. Hell, give it a few years I think you may even have taken me out as well.'

'Can't tell you how pleased that makes me,' Kuroda muttered darkly; his spark returning. Hayama chuckled.

'Well okay, maybe you wouldn't have won, but it would've been a lot closer.' With that, he picked himself up and roused Yukino from her slumber with a few taps here and there. She'd be sore for a few hours, but it would be easier with her up and about.

The young woman groaned and clutched her head, which no doubt ached quite badly.

'Whazzat? What happened? Why do I hurt in places?' She asked groggily.

'No reason,' Hayama answered lightly. 'Now, let's get this show on the road. Yukino, stand next to the big boy would you?'

'You touch him and you die,' Kuroda snarled.

'Relax friend, my lovely associate here isn't going to harm your older brother.'

'He's not my –'

'Yes, yes, I know, but your psyche profile was pretty specific. Of course you can deny it if you want – as I'm sure you would if I hadn't interrupted you – but we both know what we both know.' He clapped his hands together, which made Yukino wince. 'Anyway! Do you know who we are, Mr Makoto?'

'Should I?'

'Not really, otherwise it would mean we're not doing our jobs properly. Our… employer wants to have a few words with you.'

Kuroda – who could only just move his neck, and even then with some difficulty – craned his head around, looking for a third intruder.

'I'm not seeing him.'

'Well no, that's… that's kind of what this is for.' With that, Hayama reached into his coat and retrieved a small tablet. He turned the device on and tapped on a few options before setting it up in front of Kuroda. The screen was filled with a man swathed in shadow that concealed his facial features. What was visible was a blocky, powerful figure in a smart business suit and a shaven head. He sat on a large armchair that almost radiated power and when he spoke, it was a deep, gravelly voice that brooked no talkback and demanded supplication.

'Hello Kuroda Makoto. I am known as Grey Hound; a member of this city's Board of Directors.'

Kuroda froze, his blood turning to ice in his veins. What did this powerful man want with him?

Grey Hound continued, 'I will be blunt, as time is very much of the essence. I have been observing you for some time now, as I believe you possess skills useful to me, and to the city.'

A smart reply formed in Kuroda's head and almost instantly withered away when he remembered he was speaking to one of the people who ran this city. He felt his aggression fade.

'Recent events have proven to me that my initial thoughts were correct. I need you, Kuroda Makoto. Your city needs you.'

Kuroda was stunned into silence. It took what felt like aeons before he recovered the use of his vocal chords.

'What do you need me for? Why not someone else?'

'If there were someone else don't you think Hayama and Yukino would be visiting them instead of you right now? I have browsed the files made available to me and I have made my decision. My list was not particularly extensive and the others on said list I cannot, in all feasibility, even attempt to recruit due to directives from the Head Superintendent and other members of the Board.

'What if I said no?'

The figure, who had so far been an unmoving statue, leaned forward. Kuroda could just make out a glimpse of one sharp eye which was narrowed dangerously. He crossed his hands and leaned his face forwards. He turned his head to the side and gave the slightest of nods.

The feed of Grey Hound vanished, replaced instead by what looked like a hospital bed. There was a slender figure laid on the bed – female. She was pitifully thin and her skin was blotched as though it was healing from…

_Burns…_

Kuroda's eyes travelled up to her face…

And he felt his heart stop.

It had been two years but he recognised that shade of auburn. The way her fringe curled naturally to the left, which, coupled with her short bangs, framed her heartrendingly thin face like a photo frame. Her cute button nose and dimpled cheeks and the small mole under her left eye confirmed what Kuroda thought, but couldn't quite bring himself to believe.

'Aika…' he breathed.

The feed switched back to Grey Hound's persona.

'We retrieved her two years ago shortly after the fire that consumed her student block. If I recall correctly you beat the perpetrator – a level 3 pyro-kinetic – into a coma.'

'I'll do the same to you if you don't tell me exactly where she is!' Kuroda hissed through clenched teeth, his face contorted into a feral expression. Hayama looked down at him with a disapproving expression while Yukino glanced over at the prone youth as if to discern what the commotion was about.

'I have no doubt you would were you informed of my location. You can relax though, Mr Makoto. We are not going to have her killed. Indeed, she was progressing rather promisingly along the power curriculum as a Telepath before that… tragic incident. I believe that she could well have achieved Level 3 at this stage were it not for the actions of one bitter boy's mistake. Indeed, I hope that she will make a full recovery within the span of the next few months…'

Grey Hound's tone of voice made it seem like he was going somewhere. Kuroda had an inkling as to where exactly that was.

'You want me to work for you, and in exchange you'll heal her, is that it?' he asked.

Grey Hound uncrossed his hands and leaned back into his chair. 'My dear boy, we were going to heal her anyway. But I do have access to technology that would make the process a little bit faster, a little bit… less painful. Naturally however, this technology is in hot demand and short supply on account of how difficult it is to develop.

'You are correct in your thoughts though – I like a mind that catches on quickly: in exchange for this… arrangement, I will give the doctors treating her access to this technology.'

Kuroda didn't even need a moment to think.

'I'll do it.'

He could almost feel the smile stretch across Grey Hound's indiscernible features.

'Excellent. I do love when agreement is reached. You will be given a file with a location and a date. Be there on that day at that time. Do not worry about numbers or email. I will have a way to contact you, be sure of that. Until then, Mr Makoto, I bid you good night.'

The feed died and Kuroda was left staring at a blank screen. He suddenly felt drained; like that conversation had sapped years of life from him in one go and he breathed a deep sigh.

'Yeah, I know the feeling,' Hayama said softly, sounding almost sympathetic.

Kuroda snapped his head up to face the older boy.

'So I guess you're his go-to-goon right? If that's all there is and we're on the same team now I don't suppose you can let me up now?'

Hayama raised an eyebrow and stared at him for a moment. The corner of his lip tugged in a small smirk and he raised himself.

'Well, I don't see why not.' He stretched his shoulders and cracked the bones in his hands, exaggerating the movements before entering a strange stance standing above Kuroda's prone form.

'Be aware though, you may sting for a few hours. I am going to just forcibly reactivate your limbs shortly after putting them to sleep after all.'

With that he struck, fingers digging into points only a handful of others could know the locations of and even fewer could actually hit with any degree of accuracy.

Just like that Kuroda felt control return to him and he hurriedly pushed himself up onto his feet. Hayama was right. He ached all over, but at least he was upright again.

'Okay…' he said, taking a deep breath…

Before lashing out with a punch at Hayama.

The older boy stepped aside like he was giving way to an elderly pensioner. He shook his head.

'Tut tut. You practically telegraphed that one. Why I bet even the densest Level 0 would have been able to see that one coming.'

Kuroda, who had overstepped, stumbled and fell to his knees, his face burning. He felt… he didn't know how he felt. He wanted to break something but at the same time he felt like he was on an all-time high as well. Aika was _alive._ He felt a rush surging through him and suddenly felt like throwing up. Hayama brought him up and rushed him into the bathroom, where he was violently ill into the bowl of the toilet.

'Never seen that reaction before,' Hayama remarked.

'He okay?' Yukino called, having been muted entirely by the conversation between Grey Hound and Kuroda.

'He will be,' Hayama called back.

It was five minutes but eventually Kuroda got back onto his feet. As he stepped out of the bathroom after wiping himself down he caught sight of Tetsuo, still restrained by Yukino's ice on the floor. Hayama was out on the balcony making a call, leaving just him and the ice manipulator.

'Can you let him go now? I'm not going to fight back anymore. Don't think he'll be much up to it either.'

Yukino quirked a brow but removed the ice, letting it flow back into the bottle where she melted it again. Kuroda whistled.

'Ice powers right? That's a pretty handy trick there. With the bottle I mean.'

'It helps.' Yukino replied before replacing the bottle within her coat and folding her arms. Kuroda took in her thick winter coat.

'Aren't you warm like that?' he asked. Yukino gave him a pointed look.

'Right. Of course, sorry I asked. Geez, attitude problem much?'

'You tried to bash my skull in earlier,' she said in a deadpan tone.

'In my defence I thought you were both burglars… or worse.'

'Worse than burglars?'

'You know what? Let's not dig too much into that.'

'What, about the fact that you hunt thugs for cash?'

Kuroda turned sharply to face Yukino, who had a smug smirk on her face.

'Yeah… that.' Kuroda said; unsure of what her game was exactly.

A brief moment's silence reigned, which Yukino broke seconds later.

'So who was it?' she asked.

'Hm?'

'Who was it that made you say yes? I'm pretty sure I heard a girl's name.'

'You jealous?' Kuroda baited with a teasing grin. Yukino frowned, but didn't bite as he'd thought she would. After another moment's silence Kuroda dropped the grin and sighed, rubbing the back of his neck as he thought about where to start.

'Aika Tsukino. She was… she _is… _like a little sister to me. Mine and her families were both pretty close back in the day. I got sent here and she followed soon after.'

'What? She was crushing on her brother figure?' Yukino asked with a teasing grin of her own. Kuroda realised with a start that he actually rather liked the look of that grin, and now that he really looked, he noticed that Yukino was a rather pretty thing. Her snow white hair and almost completely clear eyes gave her an aura that Kuroda thought was exotic. He fought through his more impure thoughts and back to the conversation at hand.

'No. No, she was just lonely. She was pretty bad at making friends. Mature for her age. Damn smart but I guess that comes with a price huh? All the other girls her age were playing with dolls and playing mommy. She was reading books.'

Yukino didn't reply, but nodded sombrely, her eyes seemed to glaze over – though Kuroda couldn't tell for sure what with her strange irises and the poor light.

'Anyway, she changed – for the better I might add – after coming here. The power curriculum was probably the best thing that could ever have happened to her in that regard… and then she died. Or I thought she did.'

'What happened?' she asked, though she had a rough idea already.

'Some pyro-kinetic asshole got drunk and burned down her student dorm,' Kuroda said, bitterness tinging his voice. 'Fourteen students, kids – no more than thirteen years old – were killed, including one Aika Tsukino, or so I believed.'

'You found the guy.' It wasn't a question.

Kuroda chuckled mirthlessly, he was delving into memories he'd thought of as the blackest in his entire life.

'Oh yeah. I found the prick and I pulled no punches. Last I heard he was still in a coma in some hospital. Bastard deserved it, and I hope he never wakes up for what he did.'

'You don't regret it then,' as with before, it wasn't a question, more a statement of fact.

'Hell no. I know it didn't bring Aika or those kids back but Judgement and Anti-Skill were reeling with this other case or some shit. I found some intel; asked around, and eventually I found my way to the guy who did it and gave him his just desserts. That's justice, and if there's still any left in the world that scumbag's going to rot and die in that hospital bed because he doesn't deserve to lead a life when so many others don't.'

Yukino nodded and leaned against the wall, glancing outside the French windows at Hayama, who was still on his phone.

'So what about you then?' Kuroda asked.

Yukino tilted her head to the side as if considering whether or not to answer, before finally she sighed and rolled her shoulders.

'Not much to say really. My parents both work for Grey Hound in his personal R&D Department. I got seconded to him when I developed powers. I reached Level 4 with his help and that of his R&D.' Her face softened a touch as she reminisced on some distant memory.

'So, what, you think he's a good guy then?'

Yukino pursed her lips.

'Worse than some; better than most.'

'What the hell is that supposed to mea–'

It was at that moment when Hayama strode through the door, his call evidently finished.

'Well then, everything's arranged. You and I had best be on our way Yukino,' he turned to Kuroda and handed him an envelope which contained a state of the art smartphone and an earpiece. 'Take those, you'll need them come the due date… oh and by the way, I look forward to working with you.'

'Sure…' Kuroda murmured as he examined his new presents suspiciously.

'Turn the phone on and you'll go through the set-up process. It's on an encrypted network so only Grey Hound and anyone he authorises will know what's being said through it. Once you go through start-up you'll get an email with the details of our first assignment. We'll see you then.' He turned and motioned for Yukino to follow, who walked through the French window and created a bridge that stretched from the balcony all the way to the roof of the nearest building. Kuroda whistled, impressed.

'Ah yes,' Hayama said, turning around.

'Make sure that you are ready… for anything. The world you're getting yourself wrapped up inside… it's nothing like the one you're used to,' he said, his tone and face all set in a serious expression.

'Save it big guy, I can handle myself.'

'If you say so,' Hayama replied, and with that, he and Yukino took off over the bridge, which melted away as soon as they were across it.

Kuroda rubbed his temple as he sauntered over to where Tetsuo lay unconscious. He heaved the older lad into his bedroom and plopped him on the mattress before making his way to his own room. He lay down but found that sleep eluded him. He kept thinking about the intrusion, Grey Hound's words, and, of course, Aika.

He paused to consider Hayama's final words before leaving, and grit his teeth, his mind made up.

'Oh, I'll be more than ready.'


End file.
